Sweat and the Small Stuff
by BlankAce
Summary: Keith enjoy late night practices. The team figures he can take care of himself. In the end it seems like Keith has gone out of his way to prove them wrong. Now a bad fever and a late night reality check have the Red Paladin facing a hesitant truth. / Sheith if you squint, oneshot for now might make this a collection of hurt/comfort stories. /


He wiped the sweat from his brow in the same moment he dodged the sweeping action of the gladiators blade. Another swing brought him to his knees. A third had him crying out with defeat. "End training sequence!"

Keith waited for the gladiator to disappear before rising unsteadily to his feet. The earlier swipe of his brow had been futile as more sweat had replaced it in seconds. He was grossed out by how it coated him and found quick relief by stripping out of his shirt and sliding off his boots. He started the half-naked trek back to the showers, unconcerned by how he needed to pant harshly to draw the correct amount of air into his lungs. He wasn't the type to sweat the small things.

The shower provided no more relief, even as he grew impatient and twisted the knobs violently until the water was so cold it should've rightfully been ice. The uncharacteristic outburst of anger didn't even faze him. He reluctantly finished the shower and stepped out. He ignored the chatter of his teeth, which seemed a lesser fact compared to the heat of his body.

Now even less dressed then before he stumbled towards his room, finding the amount of steps he could take before he was forced to lean against the wall for air growing smaller. At one point he was forced to crouch, gasping like a floundering fish just to keep his mind afloat. As his hyperventilation slowly calmed he glanced down both halls. He was thankful that it was the middle of the night and that no one was out to see his embarrassing condition.

After the attack passed completely he stumbled to his feet again and finally, finally, made back to his room. He craved the respite of his bed but had the sense to put on pants. He grabbed the first pair available, which happened to be a tight pair of black ones that he wore under his armor. He shrugged them on.

Small stuff.

The heat under his skin was enough to make him growl at the sight of his blankets. Again anger, he tossed them off with a flourish. They fell to the floor in a jumbled heap and Keith made no move to collect them. He clambered into his bed and drifted off immediately. His hands unconsciously moving to hug his shivering body. He wondered why the heat and daze made him nostalgic.

* * *

 _'He has a fever." A quiet female voice said. A gruffer one called out to it and with a sigh it was turned back to the young boy. "Come on, Keith, we don't have time to stop."_

 _What? Keith wondered. Stop what? Who were these people? The female voice spoke to him again and a cool cloth was dabbed against his forehead. "Keith, you need to get better. You don't want mommy and daddy to leave you behind do you?"_

 _Keith felt the panic spread through his chest. No! no. He could get better. He struggled to open his eyes, his mouth and make that promise aloud. With a final effort he felt his heavy lids start to rise._

* * *

He woke up crying, the dream already forgotten. His mind was pulled back into his body and forced to recognize that it was shaking, thirsty and exhausted. He recognized the fever for what it was and came to terms with it. He ignored the panic that rose in his chest and the bile in his throat. He waited for his body to calm. When all but the tears and heat had stopped he started to stand.

His instincts lead him down the hall at a snails pace. It would've made more sense for him to stop at Lance's door but he found himself gone past it before the thought crossed his mind. He walked with one hand against the wall at all times, his fingers raising to skim across the cool silver walls whenever a lazy step had him off balance. After what had felt like an endless journey his fingers bumped into the door frame and he let out a grateful breath.

His mind felt muddled and for a moment he forgot why he was out of bed in the first place. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts and knock lightly against the door. It must've been too lightly since after a minute of waiting there was no reply. He leaned his whole sore body against the door and it made the familiar noise and swung open.

Keith stumbled in loudly, causing the sleeping Shiro to jolt up with an alarmed look on his face. Keith felt bad for waking him and selfishly relieved to see the sleepy confused look on the mans face. He took a few more steps before collapsing beside Shiro on the bed. Shiro was up in seconds, his tired panic morphing into alert worry.

"Keith? What's wrong." Keith could hardly recognize the cool feeling of a hand on his forehead or the muted swear that left the clean-mouthed adult. "What have you done to yourself? I'll go get Allura." Keith didn't know why that earlier fear possessed him again but his hand lashed out faster then his brain could comprehend what he was doing.

"No!" He was shocked at how hoarse his own voice was. "Don't go I'll get better quick I promise. Please. Not again…" His voice trailed off as he refocused his strength on not letting go of Shiro's pant leg. He felt the cool on his forehead again and involuntarily whimpered. He could feel the hand on his head shake, or was that him?

"Why are you crying, Keith?" The voice asked patiently. Keith had no response, he hadn't even known he was. He chewed his lip pensively, desperate to please whoever was providing to cool but unsure how, or even why, in his confusion.

The hand on his forehead was removed and instead he felt strong arms looping under his legs and back. It was like being hugged by a solid wall of relief and despite his exhaustion Keith grasped onto the loose sleeping shirt that Shiro wore. He was vaguely aware that he wasn't wearing a shirt and Shiro pointed out the other things wrong with his outfit.

"Why are you wearing your armor pants to bed and why didn't you do them up? Don't tell me you went to bed when you were feeling like this." A moment was spent staring down at Keith, which Keith only knew was spent because he himself had been looking up, revealed a slight frown and worried eyes. "You did didn't you! Urghh, Keith, you... You are a bad boy."

Keith creased his eyebrows at the statement. What had he done now. The thought fell from his mind as they started to move, the slight jostle from being carried causing a faint wince but the careful adjustments always came with soft apologies.

After another painful tremor, which had definitely come from his own body, Keith felt the walking pause. He was shocked when something cold touched his forehead despite both hands being occupied with holding him up. He eyes flicked open and found themselves staring into the depths of a dark grey ocean.

He traced them for a moment, the pressure of Shiro forehead on his strangely comforting. The dark eyes filled with concern and warmth. After a moment of gazing Shiro spoke softly. "We don't deserve this from you."

Keith felt a pang of guilt but was unsure of what he had done. Luckily the grey eyes cleared it up quickly. "You don't trust us do you. Not with the simplest of things it seems. We fight beside you and face certain death but you can't be bothered to come tell one of us you have a fever before you've become so confused you barely know you're doing it. What will it take for you to trust us?"

The eyes left his and drew away and soon the walking started again. Keith processed what had been said and was quiet in his reply, "m'sorry."

He heard a soft chuckle and had a hard time seeing humor in the conversation. "No, don't be. I'm sorry. I know that you work through things differently then the rest of us. Your just used to being alone. You don't even know how to trust do you."

"I do, I can…" He trailed off and clutched tighter to the grey shirt, which was scrunched between his finger. He heard the soft, perhaps relieved, sigh.

"I know and don't worry okay? I'm patient, I'll wait until you figure it all out." He felt the walking stop and waited for the cool again. He was startled when he instead heard the sound of bare foot on metal and winced at the vibrations the unbalance caused. After a moment the sound rang out again and a quiet female voice called out. Moments later a familiar noise of an opening door and a soft gasp. He heard snippets of the muted explanation and began to doze off as they started to move again.

He wasn't even aware when they fit him into a suit and placed him into a healing pod. He just slept. Thankfully, dreamlessly.

* * *

He stumbled out of the pod, and fell right into the arms of Shiro. All and all not a bad awakening.

"Thanks." He said, before pushing himself back and standing on his own to feet. Something he was vaguely aware he had been unable to do before entering the pod.

He looked around trying to get some sort of reading as to what time it was. He was relieved to see that it was just a few hours before midnight. He couldn't have been asleep for more then a few hours. He felt bad for getting worked up over something that required so little time to heal.

"I can read your mind, Keith." Shiro spoke with a smile and sapped Keith back to his situation. "And no you did not just sleep for a few hours, try just under a day actually." Keith felt heat rise in his cheeks as some memories of the night before came back. But yeah, what Shiro said made sense, it was two hours earlier then when he had stopped training the day before, he just hadn't recalled till then. He didn't mention that to Keith though. He did jump though, at the sudden touch on his forehead. "Wha-?" He was cut off by Shiro concerned look. "I feel much better now." He said softly.

He watched the stages of Shiro's concern. First worry, which faded to relief, then changed to joy as it finally clicked that Keith was fine again. "Great! I'm starving and I know your starving."

"That mind reading thing again?"

"Yep!" He said cheerfully, "I think we need ice cream, and thanks to Hunk who slaved in the kitchen all day because I told him it was your recovery food we actually have some. Or at least something green that _should_ taste like ice cream…"

Keith smiled and followed behind quickly. _He remembers my recovery food from way back when I twisted my ankle in the Garrison_. Keith thought back to the night before and although most of the conversation was lost one line had stuck with him, ' _I'm patient_ '

Keith shook his head and looked up from his shoes, he stared at the back of the man, recognizing the shirt as the one Shiro had been wearing the night before.

"I'm not one to make people wait." He said aloud, he knew Shiro heard and for a moment wondered if he didn't realize what Keith was talking about. But then the calming voice cut into his thoughts and quelled his worries.

"No you're not."

* * *

 **Hope you liked it! There's just something about the Voltron boys that makes me want to write whump. (they bring out my evil) I'm open to any whump requests if that's something you guys are interested in? Just PM me. Anywho thanks for reading!**


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